


All the Same

by Sed



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:43:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sed/pseuds/Sed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clu finally has Tron all to himself, but it doesn't really go as hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Same

“Hmm, he didn’t stick around very long,” Clu muttered. He considered going after Flynn, having him hunted down before he had a chance to regroup, but there were matters that required immediate attention. Matters that were stirring at that very moment, twitching in pain and curling around a fresh, disfiguring injury. “Awake?” he asked, nudging Tron’s back with the toe of his boot. When no reply came he pushed a little harder. Tron slowly lifted himself onto one knee, trying to move away, but Clu brought a boot down on his hip and held him in place. “No no, we’re not done.”  
  
“ _Clu…_ ”  
  
Clu recoiled in disgust; the ragged, guttural sound of Tron’s damaged vocal functions made his own circuits run cold. He considered ordering him to be silent, but he wasn’t foolish enough to hope that Tron would obey—not yet. Modifications were necessary before he could even begin to expect obedience. He knelt down and removed his own disc, placing it on Tron’s empty dock. The reaction was instantaneous; Tron jerked back like he’d been burned, and Clu had to hold him in place to bring up the interface. “Stop it. This is only going to take longer if you struggle.”  
  
“ _What—_ ”   
  
“I’m not sure what will happen if you interrupt me.”  
  
Writing a rectification sequence to override Tron’s base programming wouldn’t take very long. It was giving that new code time to work its way through his system that would require patience. For the moment Tron was too injured to fight; that could change quickly, though. Best, Clu decided, to keep him down somehow. The sound of Tron’s heavy, ragged breathing as he input the last of the string gave Clu some very good ideas about how to buy that time, while simultaneously rewarding himself for a job well done. He closed the interface and removed his disc, storing it back on his own dock, out of reach from weak hands. Tron had gone still as the first of the alterations worked their way through his system.  
  
“Remember when we used to spar?” Clu asked. He rolled Tron onto his stomach and straddled his thighs, running his hands over the hard curves of his body and up to his back. “You and I both know it was a lot more than that, sometimes. Right?”  
  
“ _Clu, no_ ,” Tron ground out. He flipped onto his back and sent Clu tumbling. “ _Derez me_.”  
  
“What?” Clu laughed bitterly. “Why would I do that? What an inefficient use of a valuable resource. No, I’ve got more in mind for you than scattered remains on the pavement.” As he spoke Clu stood and stepped over Tron, his feet planted on either side of the other program’s hips. “I’d say not to fight, but somehow I think that’s expecting too much.”  
  
“ _I’ll kill you_.”  
  
“You’re welcome to try.” He sank down to his knees and pressed himself against Tron’s groin, making a pleased sound at what he found there. “Old habits die _hard_ , don’t they?”  
  
Tron looked momentarily ashamed, but then the rage was back, and he brought a knee up sharp into Clu’s back. They fought one another for control, but Clu—uninjured and drawing his power from his own user—won with ease after only a short time.  
  
“ _Why?_ ” Tron asked. He was still pinned under Clu’s weight. “ _End this_.”  
  
“What, go back? Let Flynn walk out of here and delete me? No, _friend_ , we’ve gone too far to turn back now. I know you won’t come with me willingly; you’ve always been partial to Flynn, haven’t you? Don’t look away. I’ve seen those glances, the way you two stand just a bit closer to each other than anyone else. Is that why you always came so close, but held yourself back from me? Is that what this is?” He palmed at the hard length trapped beneath Tron’s armor. “Always for Flynn. Well, now it’s my turn.”  
  
“ _It won’t be the same_.”  
  
That hit harder than Clu expected. He grabbed Tron’s wrists and slammed them down against the pavement. “It’s all the same to me,” he hissed.  
  
Tron was still breathing hard, but his eyes were dark, and Clu couldn’t read his expression anymore. For a moment they simply stared at one another, and Clu slowly pushed himself down against Tron’s erection, his own rubbing against his suit each time he moved. Without warning he found himself flipped, rolled onto his back by a strength he didn’t think Tron possessed at that point, and their grips reversed; Tron now held _him_ down.  
  
“ _You want it that much?_ ” Tron’s voice was like rocks ground against glass. Broken and shattered like the jagged wound that revealed the pale blue inside his neck. “ _So much you’re going to take it?_ ”  
  
“You would never give it otherwise.”  
  
His answer was a hard shove from Tron that sent him onto his side, and then Clu found himself pushed down, his face held hard against the cold, slick pavement. Tron was touching him, hands roaming across his body in a way that couldn’t be mistaken for affectionate. He reached between Clu’s legs and gripped him, just enough to make Clu lift his hips and cry out. In response Tron settled against him, rocking forward in time with the movements of his hand. “ _If that’s all this is about—_ ”  
  
“It’s not!” Clu clenched his jaw and set his cheek against the pavement as Tron ripped at his suit, sending gold-edged shreds of fabric tumbling to the ground to be absorbed by the system. Clu shook his head to emphasize the denial. “It’s more than that,” he growled.  
  
“ _We’ll see_.”  
  
Everything after that moment happened in a blur; Clu’s fingers scraped at the ground as Tron pushed into him, hard and callous, and without any pretense of desire. Some internal warning screeched about physical integrity, but the surge of actual, tangible pleasure that burned from his core was so much more important at that moment. Clu dismissed the alarm and focused on the feeling of Tron inside him; how many times had he imagined it? Thoughts of those tense sparring sessions ending in Tron simply losing control and pinning him to the floor of the arena box, taking him, just like he was at that moment—only it wasn’t anything like that. What was happening in the middle of that desolate intersection had nothing to do with lust. It was all about Flynn; saving Flynn.  
  
“Get off me,” Clu growled. Tron continued to thrust, cracked sounds spilling from him as he gripped Clu’s shoulder and slid forward just a bit harder. “I said _get off!_ ” But Tron held him down, and suddenly it didn’t matter how good it felt, because it wasn’t for him. It was never for him.  
  
“ _Flynn_.”  
  
“No! I am not Flynn, stop it!” He pushed at Tron and tried to lift himself, but the other program held him down hard. Tron wrapped his legs around Clu’s and slammed into him, making him groan and arch involuntarily, arms shaking, trying to fight past the deep, aching desire that warred with rational thought. He heard Tron laugh, and the sound made him cold.  
  
“ _No, you’re not_ ,” Tron replied. He threaded a hand into Clu’s hair and yanked his head back. Warm lips pressed against Clu’s ear. “ _But it’s all the same to me_.”  
  
Clu looked to the side at the broken lines of light that stretched down Tron’s fingers. They were flickering; fading in and out like he was losing power—but he never slowed. Clu moaned at a deep thrust, and then Tron was flush against him, rolling his hips and taking his time as he slowly succumbed to the new code.  
  
So many times Clu had traced his own circuits, stimulating himself, the heel of his palm dragging along the bulge in his suit as he lay on the arena floor imagining that Tron was watching. In the end _this_ was all he would ever have. It wasn’t fair.  
  
Tron pulled out most of the way, pausing for a moment before sliding back into place in one long, languid stroke. Clu distanced himself from the feeling. He watched the circuits on Tron’s hand as they blinked out and flickered to life again, only to flash a vibrant red-orange before the cycle started over. He wouldn’t be Tron much longer.  
  
“I still get you,” he said bitterly. “One way or another.”  
  
The voice that answered sounded like Tron, but Clu could hear almost nothing of his friend in the cold, empty rumble. “ _Not me_ ,” he replied. The white lights on his hand dimmed one more time, returning orange; steady and solid.


End file.
